The Dust Will Never Settle (20 page)

When the man from Aligarh reached the outskirts of Delhi, there was a long line of cars at the security checkpoint. Security had been ramped up for the Commonwealth Games. When his turn came, the man held out a voter’s identity card.

The cop took the card. ‘What are you going to Delhi for?’

‘Going back home, sahib. What else?’

‘Where do you live?’

The troubleshooter pointed at the card in the cop’s hand. It had a Delhi address. The card was not a forgery so the man was not worried. It would take more than a cursory check to ascertain that the man it had once belonged to was now dead. And it was no coincidence that the dead man resembled the man now using the card.

It had been a fourteen-hour stint for the cop on duty, which was the norm, especially during special events. After all, there were only so many men available for duty. The rain, which seemed to have made Delhi’s annual quota of water in a week, was not helping. He handed the card back with a nod. The man from Aligarh waited till the other two cops had checked his car’s engine compartment and boot and then drove off. His heartbeat returned to normal as the checkpoint vanished in the rear view. Hardened though he was, such encounters always took a toll.

He now headed for Saket, a residential colony in south Delhi.

Ruby sat back as Kishore navigated through the traffic. The road was covered in large puddles.

Aware that rest was imperative, she used this time to unwind. She was now feeling a bit more relaxed. Things seemed under control and the agent in her had pushed the weak woman with emotional baggage into the background.

Ruby reviewed the situation, ticking off the action points on her checklist. The money had been collected. The strike team would be in Delhi in a few hours. The munitions from Sri Lanka had reached the warehouse. In fact – she checked her watch – Mark should have picked them up by now. He would divide them up between the two Maruti vans they had hired, which the teams would be using, and park them safely. The venue Mark had selected for the Glock pick-up was nice and public – as safe as it could get.

The icy look on Simran’s face that morning returned to haunt her. And her anger returned with it. By the time the car pulled up outside the Ashoka hotel, it was simmering inside her, waiting to explode.

The troubleshooter pulled over by the side of a lonely road, retrieved his weapons from the hidden compartment in the back seat and checked them. Both pistols were loaded. He probably wouldn’t need them, but out of habit he checked the spare magazines to make sure they were ready.

Parking his car at the entrance of Saket residential complex, he made his way down the road on foot. Due to the rain there were not many people about. He pulled the umbrella low over his face and maintained a steady pace, staying on the side facing Rizwan’s house. It took him just one pass to spot the first police vehicle. Parked across the small colony park, opposite the target’s house, it was an off-white Tata Safari SUV. He saw three men inside, two in front and one in the back. The one in the back had a headset on and two directional mikes pointing out, facing the house. The mikes were well placed, and would not be visible to a casual observer.

The second cop car, a sky-blue Tata Indigo sedan, was harder to spot. It was sitting in the driveway of the adjacent house. He would not have noticed it if one of the watchers had not stepped out for a smoke.

Still not satisfied, he waited half an hour before making another pass. He needed to be sure there were no more watchers. His life depended on it. Only when he was absolutely certain did he return to his car.

He could have done the job right away, but Pasha’s instructions were clear – an example had to be made. He hated such complications, but there was no choice. Pasha’s orders had to be obeyed.

He returned to his car, pulled out his mobile and sent a text. Three minutes later, he received the reply. He deleted both the messages and, settling himself behind the wheel, waited.

It would be a long wait, but he was patient. The rain kept him company.

Ravinder was at the fag end of his security review at the Ashoka hotel when his mobile rang.

‘Yes, Sanjeev?’

‘Sir, it’s me… Nanda.’

‘Yes, tell me.’

‘The guy is collecting the items at four tomorrow.’

‘Where?’

‘The Garden of Five Senses.’

‘Damn!’ Ravinder grimaced as he pictured the venue. It would be a pain to put down a team discreetly. ‘Why did you have to pick…’

‘I didn’t. He did.’

A pro, Ravinder reflected. He’d picked a place and time where the crowds would be heavy.

‘Okay, we’ll be there.’

‘Sir,’ Nanda asked hesitantly, ‘you are going to be there, right? Yourself?’

‘Of course I will.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Nanda sounded relieved. ‘I was worried. Sometimes your people can get trigger happy.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Sanjeev. I’ll be there.’

Ravinder saw Chance and Jennifer coming up to him as he ended the call. ‘Is everything okay?’ The look on Chance’s face made it clear that it wasn’t.

‘Well, Mr Gill, I don’t want to seem overcritical, but we are having a problem with the guards holding onto their posts every time we run an emergency security breach drill.’

‘Really?’ Ravinder was perplexed; the drill was simple and clear. He had just been through it with Mohite – the minute an alert was sounded, everyone stuck to their posts and ensured nothing moved in or out. ‘Why is that? Any specific problem you could identify?’

Chance hesitated, aware he was on shaky ground. But he realized the issue had to be sorted out. If something happened to the British MP
his
arse would be grass. ‘I think it is because Mr Mohite keeps countermanding orders from the control room and issuing fresh ones based on what
he
feels the threat is.’

‘I see.’ Ravinder pursed his lips to contain the curses. ‘Let me take care of it.’

Chance saw Ravinder check his watch and realized they should be moving on; he trusted Gill. He thought Ravinder to be a reasonable man and had established a good rapport with him. Jennifer and he exchanged glances and then left.

Ravinder wanted to return to the eighth floor and deal with Mohite immediately, but realizing that Ruby was about to arrive, he headed for the Frontier restaurant instead.

The maitre d’ was escorting him to their table when Ruby entered. Ravinder’s heart skipped a beat as she spotted him and smiled – so striking was the similarity that he could have sworn it was Rehana.

Ruby was wearing a pale pink dress and had a matching leather clutch in her hand. Her high heels made her look taller and her black hair framed her face in a perfect oval. She looked beautiful and poised; his heart swelled. Then he noted the aloof expression on her face, it belied her smile, and his heart broke. Though she stood right there, her eyes were far away. As though the closeness they’d achieved just the night before was lost. He sensed an awkwardness hanging heavily between them.

Ravinder could not let it pass. He felt the need to reach out to her.

‘What has happened, Ruby? There is something different about you today.’

‘Nothing in particular.’ Ruby shrugged. ‘Just one of those days, I guess.’

‘But you’re okay?’

‘Don’t worry about it, dad. I will be fine.’

Ravinder sensed it was more than that, but he did not know how to get through to her.

‘The menu, sir.’ The maitre d’ held one out. Just as he was taking it, Ravinder saw Chance and Jennifer enter the restaurant.

Maybe some company would do both of us some good.
Ravinder seized the opportunity.

He stood up and waved to them. ‘Come, come. Join us. Meet my daughter.’ Ravinder gestured proudly towards Ruby as Chance and Jennifer walked up to them.

Chance’s eyes widened. ‘So you two
are
related.’ He grinned. ‘Now isn’t it a small world?’

‘You know each other?’ Ravinder asked, surprised.

Stunned, Ruby struggled to regain her composure. ‘I should say we do,’ Chance answered before Ruby could. ‘We work together.’

‘Really?’ Ravinder gave Ruby a long look. Why hadn’t she mentioned that she worked with the MI6?

Maybe because I never asked… but I did.
Now, when he replayed their conversation in his head, he thought she had been evasive.
Oh well, it is not as though MI6 agents would go around advertising it. But I am her father and
…

Chance’s voice interrupted his thoughts. ‘We have been working together for almost three years now.’

‘Fantastic.’ That was when Ravinder noticed the resemblance between the two women. And Jennifer’s expression – a polite smile plastered on her face, which did not conceal the guarded look she was giving Ruby. He sensed something was afoot.

Are they both vying for this fellow?
A mischievous impulse ran through him.

‘Why don’t the two of you join us for lunch? I would love to hear more about my daughter, since,’ he looked at Ruby fondly, ‘she does not talk about herself at all.’

The lack of enthusiasm on Jennifer’s face was clear. And it was mirrored on Ruby’s.

Chance began, ‘We don’t want to intrude on a family…’

‘Nonsense. I absolutely insist. Please…’ He rose and pulled up the chair facing him for Jennifer, so that Chance had to sit opposite Ruby.

‘You two look so alike!’ He gave Jennifer and Ruby a smile. The fact that neither smiled in return did not escape his attention.

Ruby cursed silently as Chance and Jennifer sat down. She would have to make sure the conversation stayed away from dangerous terrain. All three were already on the lookout for a female British mercenary.

To Ruby’s relief, the maitre d’ arrived to take their orders just then.

‘It is as much fun watching the chefs prepare the dishes as it is eating here.’ Ravinder gestured towards the men working the barbeque a few metres away. ‘Would you like me to help you with ordering?’ he asked.

All three nodded. ‘That would be great.’ Chance smiled. ‘Easy on the spices for me,’ Ruby added. ‘That’s funny,’ Ravinder said lovingly. ‘Your mother loved spicy food.’

‘But I can’t handle it.’

‘Me neither,’ Jennifer chimed in.

Ruby, Jennifer and Chance watched the chefs working expertly with a multitude of barbequed dishes as Ravinder conferred with the maitre d’ and ordered.